It’s a Saturday in August of 2003.  My husband, Steve, and I have lived in Arizona for four months.  The small house we’re renting in Cottonwood serves us well until we find one to buy.  If things are going so well, why did I wake up this morning in a swamp of anxiety?  I feel so overwhelmed by these emotions!

Panic

My breath comes in short gasps as my mind runs amok:  What if we have no food in the fridge, can’t afford dog food, deplete our bank account?  What if we end up homeless?  Even though I know my husband, Steve, bears no responsibility for my anxiety, my blame lands on him. Hour after hour, the fear consumes me. I fidget and fume all day.  That night, I fall into bed, hoping the feeling of drowning in my emotions will be gone by morning.

No such luck.  More terror, more panic fill my Sunday as the hours tick by slowly. Now it’s almost 5:00 PM.  Where have the last two days gone?  What’s happening to me?  I notice tightness in my solar plexus.  Each fearful thought seems to stab me there like a knife.  I’m terrified that I will never feel good again!

Pause

A small inner voice whispers: Could you be stabbing yourself, mentally and psychically?

The question throws me off-balance. I grab a chair and sit to stabilize myself as I examine this new thought more closely. Maybe the sensation in my solar plexus has a message for me.  Just maybe it’s time to listen.

Okay (deep breath).  Focus.  I direct my attention to the tight feeling in my solar plexus. It hurts!  I imitate the rigid knot I feel by clenching my fist so tightly, the knuckles shine white. 

My inner dialogue guides me: stay with the pain.  Feel it fully; don’t run.  Have the courage to sit with it and enter it as deeply as you can. 

But I don’t like it! 

Stay with it anyway.  Just see what happens.

Reluctantly, I move my attention further into the uncomfortable knot.  As I wait and watch quietly, curiosity sneaks into the edges of my observation.

Peace

Oh my, there’s movement!  The knot feels a little looser.  Stay with it — keep feeling the sensation.  It’s loosening even more.  And now more!  The jumble of angst, less tense now, moves out into the space in front of my body and… disappears!  

Ah-h-h.  It’s gone!  And only five minutes have passed!

I open my eyes.  For the first time all weekend, my favorite blue in the curtains holds my attention and mesmerizes me. I stare in wonder as the late afternoon sun dances on the carpet.  A whoosh of awe and joy floods my whole being.

I get it! For two whole days, I had allowed “what-if” thoughts to swallow me entirely and to cause me to overlook the beauty of my life as it is.  How easily my emotions transmuted — changed — when I took my eyes off the drama and looked instead at the sensations the drama caused in my body.

Doing so brought me smack dab into the present moment and freed me from the story I made up about a future that showed no hint of happening.

in this moment, Steve and I have a roof over our heads, food in the refrigerator, and money in the bank.  Immense gratitude wells up inside me, and tears spill onto my cheeks. 

Practice

Whenever I practice this transmutation exercise to shift into feeling good, I notice variations on the results. In this story, the uncomfortable sensation moves out of the body and disappears.  

• Alternatively: Instead of disappearing, the sensation/emotion may move to a different body location.  If you try the exercise and this happens, keep tracking it wherever it goes.  Notice its subtle shifts. It won’t be long before something resolves.

• You may experience a stirring in your heart that wells up as a feeling of tenderness, forgiveness or love. It might release through tears. If so, simply allow it to happen.

• Occasionally, the emotion may shift into a sudden idea (picture a light bulb lighting up in your head) about how to resolve a problem or situation.

This experience (and subsequent experiences of working with my emotions in this way) has taught me a some valuable lessons:

When we believe the interpretations our minds make up about the events and circumstances in our lives, we create our own suffering.

When we choose gratitude for what we know to be true instead of wallowing in the fear of made-up stuff, we skirt around traps that lure us into emotional drama and pain.

Our emotions are our sacred teachers.  We don’t need to fear them, avoid them, judge them, or push them away.  When we allow ourselves instead to fall into them, very soon we notice we have fallen through them.

In the space beyond, we find peace and resolution.